


The King's New Groove

by gaylock



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Awkward Greg, BAMF Anthea, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, Friendship, Jealous Mycroft, Jealous Sherlock, Johnlock - Freeform, King Mycroft, Llamas, M/M, Magic, Prince Sherlock, Romance, Slow Burn, a spin on disney's The Emporer's New Groove, irene is his sidekick, lots and lots of llamas, moriarty is magic, mycroft gets turned into a peasant, mystrade, or science stuff, sally is gregs sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:10:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5817151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaylock/pseuds/gaylock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tale of adventure and magic, love and betrayal, loyalty and desire. The king of the land requires the help of a commoner to attain his goals, but there are people within his court who are set on betraying him. While Mycroft and Greg face their own problems far away from the Palace, Prince Sherlock must deal with not only the Kings duties, but also the traitors in their midst. Thankfully, he befriends one of the Palace guards, a young man named John, who is set on doing his absolute best to protect the young Prince from any danger that may befall him. </p><p>Or, in other words: Mycroft is charmingly ginger, Greg tries not to fall in love, Sherlock and John get up to shit, Sally gets the girl, Anthea is badass and Moriarty is a bastard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I decided to write after sitting down to watch Disney's The Emperor's New Groove for the thousandth time with my little sister. It's basically a re-write of the story line, with some BBC Sherlock added in. I tried to keep it as in character as possible, but if you spot anything dreadfully OOC, please tell me!!!

Prologue:  
Mycroft Holmes stood at the window and stared out at the hills in the distance. His ice blue eyes strayed to the top of one of the tallest hills, and he smiled as he watched the sun cast its golden and red light onto the grass as it rose. 'That,' he thought to himself, 'is the perfect place for the Summer Palace.' He dropped the green velvet curtains and sighed. 

 

\----------Chapter 1: Llama's?----------

"I've found the location for your little....project."

"You mean you had your minions do the actual finding, while you take the credit."

Mycroft huffed out a breath. Honestly, did his brother have to be so difficult?  
"Footmen and servants are not minions, Sherlock. They are people I employ, whom get paid a hefty sum bi-weekly."

Sherlock's snort filled the dining hall where they sat. "I notice you did not disagree with my assessment of your actual participation, Mycroft. What was it you called it last time? Ah yes, legwork."

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said, "I have no time for cavorting around the countryside, making merry with the commoners. And why should I, when I have perfectly good people on hand to complete the task for me? I see no reason for unnecessary legwork."

"I'd say you have a pressing need for 'legwork'. What better reason than to manage your ever growing girth? No matter what anyone says, there is absolutely no need for the king to be the same size as his kingdom." 

"Honestly, Sherlock. Must you be so childish? It's only just gone seven in the morning!" Mycroft sighed as Sherlock's eyes scanned his plate and lit up with a mischievous light.

"How's the diet going?"

"Wonderfully. Now back to the subject at hand, if you will." Mycroft walked up to the largest window in the room and beckoned his brother. He watched with hidden amusement as Sherlock jumped from his seat in his usual dramatic fashion.

Mycroft pointed out towards the tall hill, the one which had the sun shining straight down on it from above. "Well, brother dear? What do you think?"

"Does it have trees? You know I need trees."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. As if he'd forgotten such a simple criterion. The merest suggestion of such a thing would have offended him, had it come from anybody else. "Yes."

"A lake? I'll need to acquire samples from somewhere."

Rolling his eyes, he drawled, "Indeed. From which many bacteria and creatures of all sorts may be gotten."

"A surrounding village from which to acquire supplies and equipment?"

Mycroft sighed. "Quite."

"Llama's?"

Mycroft blinked. "Llama's?"

"Yes."

"Oh dear lord, what on earth for?" Mycroft exclaimed, both eyebrows raised this time.

Sherlock merely stared back, awaiting an answer.

"You don't wish to experiment on the poor creatures, do you? You know I can't allow that."

He continued to stare silently, until Mycroft gave in with a shake of his head.  
"I have been reliably informed that it has them in abundance." 

Sherlock nodded and turned back to the window. "I'll need to review the sketches before you receive my final verdict."  
Mycroft snorted and pulled the sketches for his brother's project out of his vest pocket, and handed them over.

"It's..." Sherlock's eyes scanned the blueprints and the hill in the distance, before turning to look at his brother. "It's not an atrocious choice, and will certainly do well enough. Though if I find out you've been fibbing about the llamas, I'll have to take my revenge."

"If you move everything in my quarters six inches to the right again, I will convince Mummy that it would be best for all parties involved that you be exiled from the kingdom for at least a year."

Sherlock shot a dramatically offended look in his direction. "Of course not, brother dear! Would I do something like that? Besides," His wounded appearance changed into a smirk, before he tossed the blueprints down on the table and flounced to the door. "I've already done it twice. Doing it again would be boring! This time, I'll move everything six inches to the left." And with that, he strode out of the room, his favourite long jacket swishing dramatically behind him.

Mycroft watched his brother's retreating back, his brain already coming up with the plans for changing his rooms over to the farthest, most obscure corner of the castle, if only to make it harder for Sherlock's imminent antics.  
Turning back to the window, Mycroft stared out at his kingdom, and especially at the now Sherlock approved hill in the distance. 'It seems,' he thought to himself, 'we now have the confirmed location of the Summer Palace. Well,' he amended, 'just as soon as we get the current residents to rescind the property.'


	2. A Letter From The Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A letter arrives for Greg, his Mum is sassy and his sister is a typical teenage girl.

"...and the prince slayed the evil dragon, his magic sword gleaming with a godlike light as it pierced the beasts black scales--"

"Greg!"

Greg looked up from his book. Was someone calling him?

"GREG!"

Someone was definitely calling him. But...Greg looked down at his book. The prince was just about to slay the dragon! He couldn't leave now. It was the best part!

"GREGORY LESTRADE!"

Greg winced. Didn't seem like he was going to be able to finish the book just yet. He sighed and stood up, before shoving the book into his bag. "COMING MUM!" He shouted, and started down the hill towards his house, patting llamas on the head as he went. "Sorry fella's, but you know what mum's like. I promise I'll finish the book for you all tomorrow." And with that, Greg made his way through the small apple orchard and into the front garden, where he saw his mum standing impatiently with a letter in her hand.

"Hi mum. Sorry 'bout that, but I was reading to the little 'uns again. It seems to be the only thing that'll calm them down some when they get excited, and what with the thunder storm last night..." He shrugged apologetically.

Her brown eyes softened. "It's alright Greg, I'll get Sally to read to them today. You'll be busy elsewhere, and she's been lazing around the house all morning, mooning about some boy. I'm hoping working will help to knock some sense into her." She rolled her eyes in the direction of the house, and when Greg peeked inside, he saw his younger sister moving slowly about the living room, eyes wide and mournful, a sad tune coming from her lips. 

He snorted and turned back towards his mum. "I doubt anything will change it, but you're welcome to try. Is it still the tall one with the blonde hair? Joe McSwoony I think she called him?" Him and his mum giggled for a moment.

His sister's voice came floating out mournfully from the living room. "Joseph McCroody. And no, his name is Phillip Anderson, and he's tall and dark haired and incredibly handsome..." And with that, she went back to humming mournfully under her breath as she contemplated the devastation of her newest love.

Greg and his mum exchanged a look of amusement, both used to Sally's short-lived love affairs with local village boys and gentry alike. And as they never seemed to amount to anything, always happening from a distance as was the norm for shy sixteen year old girls, neither saw any reason to put a stop to them. Sally knew better than to have some tawdry, inappropriate fling with someone, so Greg wasn't really worried. Until a nice, respectable boy or girl came knocking at their door, asking permission to take Sally out on a proper date, both him and his mum knew that Sally wouldn't be doing anything but mooning about with teenage love sickness. 

'And that,' Greg thought, 'was perfectly alright with him.'

 

His eyes caught sight of the letter in his mum's hand again, and he saw his name written on it in flowery black script. "Hey!" he said, pointing down at the letter, "That's my name!"

His mum raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Yes it is. How nice to know you are capable of recognizing your name immediately when it is written down in fancy cursive, but not when it's shouted out at you for an obscure amount of time." She grinned as she waved the letter about.

Greg glared at her, grabbing the letter from her hands. "Is this why you wanted me, then?"

"Well actually, I didn't much want you in the beginning, what with you being such a little terror. But now that you're all grown up and doing lots of manly work around the place, I've decided to keep you. On a completely temporary basis though, so mind your manners."

Greg scoffed to hide his smile. "Oh please, I was an absolute delight. You were ecstatic to have me, what with me being the light of your life and all. The extremely manly work I do now is merely a thank you for having such an amazing mum." He gave her a peck on the cheek as she giggled.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, darling. Although the manner's thing was real, seeing as I wouldn't want you to completely embarrass me at the palace today." She tapped the letter meaningfully.

Greg's eyes went wide as he stared down at the letter in his hands. "You...you mean this is from the palace?" He glanced up to see his mum nod, and his mouth dropped open in surprise. 

Surprise which quickly turned to indignation. "Hey! You opened my mail! That's rude! And against the law!"

"Nope."

"Is too! We learnt about it in school!" he glared at her as she shook her head.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that I didn't actually open it."

He looked at her, baffled. "You didn't?" She shook her head again. "Then how'd you know it was from the palace? If it even is from the palace..."

She rolled her eyes and reached over to flip the letter over so the king's red wax seal could be seen. His mouth dropped open again, and he let out a shaky breath. "Blimey..." he muttered, his mind seemingly frozen as he looked down at the king's mark in the wax: a falcon holding a book in its beak and a rapier in its talons. His finger traced the outline of the falcon slowly, as if he needed the physical feel of the wax to convince his brain that it was indeed the king's mark.

"So..." His mum said slowly.

Greg looked up. "So...?"

She looked at him incredulously and crossed her arms. "So! Are you just going to stand there staring as if your life depends on it, or are you going to open the ruddy thing? Cause if you plan on just staring, there are actual things that need actual doing, by actual me. Including making you and your lazy sister lunch."

He laughed. "Sorry. Just a little shocked, I guess."

"No need to apologize, dear. Just get on with it, the suspense is killing me."

"Yeah, that makes two of us..." Greg said quietly, before taking a deep breath and breaking the seal with his nail. 'Well, here goes...' He thought, before opening the top of the envelope and pulling out the thick, cream coloured parchment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave comments and suggestions! Also, any thoughts on my characters? Are they OOC, or nah? Please tell me:)
> 
> ps. don't hate me for the cliffhanger!


	3. The Kings' Summons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The King's letter, and Greg's reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Here's the letter you've been anticipating:)

(The letter reads as follows)

 

                                                                                             Mr. G. Lestrade,

  
  
Your presence is required at the   
Royal Palace on May 29th, at noon precisely.   
Please endeavor to be on time,   
as the meeting is of indefinable importance,   
and will continue on with or without the   
benefit of your presence.   
Thank you for your time and consideration.

                 His Majesty, The King,

**_Mycroft Holmes_ **

 

 

Greg's eyes widened as he took in the fancy script of the letter and even fancier signature at the bottom. Him? _He_ was being requested for a....for a _meeting of indefinable importance_ at the Palace? He stared blankly at the letter for a moment, his mind running through the million possibilities for why he would be being summoned. A million thoughts which were abruptly cut off when his mum snatched the letter from his hand.

"Hey!" Greg lunged forwards slightly, trying to grab the letter back. His mum held it out of reach and wagged a finger at him.

"If I had just let you stare at it, I wouldn't ever have gotten the chance to find out what it says! Now wait a moment while I read it over, and then tell me why you look as if someone just kicked your puppy." Ignoring her son's glare, she turned away slightly (so as to better avoid his grabby hands) and proceeded to read the letter.

"It's a summons. A rather fancy summons with way too many words, but a summons none the less."

"Yeah."

"For a meeting of...of indefinable importance, at noon on the 29th of May. Tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Which will continue on with or without 'the benefit of your presence'."

"Yeah."

_"And?"_

Greg looked confused. "Huh?"

"Am I missing something here, or is this the entire thing?"

Greg furrowed his eyebrows as his confusion grew. "What? No, that's it, that's the entire thing. Why would you be missing something?"

His mum sighed and rolled her eyes in exasperation. Honestly, she loved her son, but sometimes he could be as simple as a llama.

"If I am in fact _not_ missing anything, then why on earth do you look so upset? It's just a summons, for goodness sake! It's not as if they've put out a warrant for your arrest." Greg looked at his mum incredulously.

"Well yeah, but why on earth would they need _me?_ I'm nothing special, and I'm certainly not anyone important. What could the King possibly need _me_ for?" His arms waved around as he spoke, haphazardly and without coordination.

"Well, you are the current head of this household and our herd. Maybe the meeting has something to do with that."

He stopped flailing his arms around, so he could better scoff at him mum. "Why on earth would the King have a meeting about our _llamas_?! What does Royalty need llamas for, anyways?"

"Oh honestly Greg. What do you think their vests and shirts and jackets are made of, wood? They wear llama wool same as we do. And where do you think that wool comes from, eh? Here, of course!" Her hands were on her hips now, letter still clutched in one hand as she stared her son down.  
  


A voice spoke up from the doorway of their house. "We actually have one of the largest herds in the area, and according to record, our wool is considered among the highest quality in the kingdom. Did you really get a summons to the Palace, Greg?" Sally stood in the doorway staring out at them, her large brown eyes lit up with excitement. When Greg nodded slowly, she let out a sigh of contentment. "Oh, how wonderful. I wish I got to meet the King, I've heard he's ever so charming..." and with that, she wandered back into the house.

Greg looked up at his mum, and she nodded quickly, answering his unasked question. "Sally is right, Greg. We have one of the most sought after herds in all the kingdom. Don't worry that the meeting is going to be about something bad, I'm sure it'll be just fine. Besides! You'll get to see the Palace. How awfully exciting." She handed him back the letter, before turning towards the house. "Now, I'm going to go make you and your sister lunch. You start packing for the journey; you'd probably be best off leaving tonight, so I don't want any dillydallying!"

Greg grinned and gave a cheeky salute, trying to hide his anxiety. "Yes, mam!" His mum smiled sympathetically and flicked him.

"And no more incessant worrying about this meeting, am I clear? 'What if's' never get us anywhere. Just enjoy the journey and your time at the Palace, and try not to look the fool in the presence of the King." She poked him in the chest to cement her point, before walking into the house.

Greg shook his head and looked down at the letter in his hands. 'Easy for her to say', he thought bitterly to himself as he stood there in the yard. ' _She_ isn't the one who has to go and meet the...the _King_.' Greg took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before straightening up and pulling his shoulders back. His mum was right; he was the man of the house, and no matter what this meeting was about, it was his responsibility to go. He wouldn't let his mum or sister down. Glancing down one last time at the King's sprawling signature, Greg grinned. The Palace was gonna be awesome!  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the Sassy Mama Lestrade I put in here, and don't forget to comment:)


	4. Dismissal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Lord James and Lady Irene, the kings Royal Advisers. Well, not for long...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's kinda short, sorry bout that. :3 School has been complete hell lately, and I know it's been a while since I last posted, but I've finally got a hang of classes and stuff, so expect more chapters, more often. The next one will definitely be longer, just letting you know:)

Ah, what a lovely day this was turning out to be! A surprisingly productive conversation with his brother, a very important letter sent, arrangements for their little project made, and it wasn’t even midday! Mycroft smiled slightly as he made his way through the Palace corridors to the Grand Hall for his monthly audiences with the commonwealth representatives. Normally this was a part of his job that he didn’t much enjoy, but as everything was going his way, he found himself feeling magnanimous.

Unfortunately, his good mood didn’t last. As the young king stepped through the doorway and into the Grand Hall, he saw one of his adviser's, Lord James, on the podium. His podium. Sitting in his throne. Mycroft’s eyes narrowed, his right fist clenching in anger, as he watched Lord James astride the throne, sitting casually as though it was his place, as though he was king. Now, this wouldn’t have been that big of a problem, because if Mycroft was being completely honest with himself the throne was truly the most uncomfortable thing he’d ever had the misfortune…... I mean honour...to sit in. And it gave him no little satisfaction to know that James, whom Mycroft disliked a great deal, was being currently subjected to such agony.

So it really wouldn’t have been an issue (or at least not that great of an issue) if it hadn’t been for the fact that while Lord James was seated in his throne, the young lords’ sister, Lady Irene, was standing on the lower level of the podium, dictating law and rule to the commonwealth representatives, and in what appeared to be a most uncouth manner. Mycroft watched as she ordered her personal guard to manhandle one of the representatives (one of the Economists, if he wasn’t mistaken) out of the room. And by manhandle, he meant drag. And by out of the room, he meant off the balcony.

Thank goodness they were only ten feet off the ground.

“Was that quite necessary, Lady Irene?” Both Irene and James turned at the sound of the king’s voice, surprise clear on their faces before they wiped it away. Mycroft smirked internally and strode forwards, stopping only when he was towering over Lord James’s form.

“Milord, I had no idea you were—” Mycroft cut Irene off with a glare.

“Clearly. Now, Lady Irene, Lord James. I understand you are my advisers. I understand that you have value. You would agree, yes?”

Two pairs of dark brown eyes stared at him, both guarded.

“Yes, Milord.” Two voices answered, and Mycroft’s inner smirk grew.

“What I don’t understand, is how any of that translates into sitting on my throne and ordering my men and subjects around as if you, either of you, were anything more than advisers.”

 

Lord James sat up straighter in the throne, before standing up slowly and moving to the side. “We were only trying to be of assistance, Milord. It shouldn’t fall on you to have to deal with these.…. peasants.” This was said with a sneer, as Lord James gestured with one hand out to the small crowd of Mycroft’s subjects. His face changed from sneering to smiling in an instant, and he made a small bow before backing up a step further. “It was not our intention to… insult you, but only to aid and… advise.”

 

Mycroft eyed his adviser's smile, seeing how it didn’t reach his eyes, and did a double take. Was that something in his teeth? Stepping slightly closer, all the while pretending to listen to James’s diatribe, Mycroft Holmes stared in morbid fascination at what appeared to be a piece of greenery stuck between his advisor’s front teeth. Oh goodness, how… uncouth. With an internal grimace, and while idly wondering just how long that piece of greenery may have been there, Mycroft closed his eyes briefly and sighed.

  
“Was it?” He asked, opening his icy eyes to look first at James, then at Irene.

  
Irene’s gaze flicked quickly to her brother, before settling on the king, a slow smile curling her lips in a blatantly seductive manner.

  
“Why, yes Milord. We promise, it won’t happen again.” Lady Irene smiled flirtatiously at him, lashes fluttering. Lord James smiled again, before nodding.

  
Mycroft watched them for a moment longer, before letting his smirk show. Sitting down on the throne, he leaned back casually, and crossed one ankle over the other.

  
“Of course it won’t. You are both dismissed.”

  
Mycroft watched in satisfaction as two pairs of brown eyes widened in confusion, and Lady Irene asked, “Milord?”

  
“I’m… terribly sorry, Lady Irene, Lord James. But your services are no longer needed by me, or the kingdom. You are dismissed.”

  
“I’m not sure I understand…”

  
“How else can I phrase it? You're being let go.... your department's being downsized...we're going in a different direction. Think of it as a permanent displacement.”

  
“But Milord, surely you don’t mean—”

  
“Shut it, Irene. Of course he does, His Majesty never say’s things he doesn’t mean.” James muttered harshly to his sister, and her mouth shut with a snap. James turned towards the king, and the sneer was back in place.

  
“Milord, you should rethink your position on this issue. Our father, Prince Richard, will be most aggrieved to hear of our… treatment.”

  
Mycroft sat up straighter and leaned forwards, letting his gaze turn icy. “Your father, Lord James, is lucky to still be holding the title of Prince at all. It is through nothing but my family’s generosity that he still lay’s claim to the Moriarty and Brook estates at all. Now, I do hate to repeat myself, Lord James, but I believe in this case it may be paramount.”

  
Leaning forwards slightly more, Mycroft stared straight into James’s dark eyes and stated,

  
“You. Are. Dismissed.”

 


	5. Remebering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Greg makes his way to the Palace, the King's letter triggers a memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW SORRY I AM, THAT IT HAS TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO UPDATE THIS STORY. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OHMYGOD ......just, I cannot apologize enough. There are literally no words to describe how sorry I am, but I hope you'll forgive me. Pleasepleasepleaseplease!!! I had really bad writers block, and honestly haven't been able to write anything for this and a bunch of other stories for weeks :/ I know that's really no excuse, but there really isn't anything else I can say.

Greg hooked up the traveling cart to the back of one of his llama's and turned to face his mum and sister. The sky was beginning to darken, and if he wanted to get to the Palace by noon tomorrow, he would have to leave soon. His mum stepped forwards and hugged him tightly, a smile on her face.

 "Be good, stay safe, and for goodness sakes, have fun!" She said, stepping back. She handed him a small coin filled purse with a wink. "I know you packed enough food for the one day trip, but if you wanted to stay in the city for an extra night, that should be enough to by a room at an inn."

Greg laughed and pocketed the purse. "Wow, thanks mum! I'll probably come right back, but I might pick something up for you from the city instead." He grinned at her and turned to his sister. Sally's eyes were for once very clear, and as she stepped forwards to hug her older brother, she said,

 "Get me something nice too, please." She leaned back and smiled up at him.

Greg ruffled her dark hair and smiled back. "Course I will, Sal. Something pretty, to impress all your boys with, eh?" He grinned impishly at her and dodged out of the way when her small hand came swinging around to smack him on the arm. He hopped up onto the cart and sat down, grabbing the reins.

 "Well, I'm off. Wish me luck." He said, giving both of them a mock salute. Waving at the both of them, he flicked the reins and the cart began moving forwards down the path towards the forest. He turned his head around to watch his mum and sister as they waved in the fading light, calling out, "Goodbye! Have fun! Be safe!" in unison. He watched them until his cart passed into the shadow of the forest and he lost sight of them. Turning back to face forwards, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness, and smiled.

 "Come on, ol' girl. Time for an adventure." He murmured, reaching a hand out to stroke the back of the llama which was pulling the cart. Greg sat back and looked up through the tree tops to the dark blue sky above. He could see glimpses of stars, all clustered together into beautiful constellations. The sky was for once clear of clouds, and he felt glad that there would be no rain nor raging storms tonight. It would mean that both his mum and sister, as well as the herd would be safe and fine while he was gone.

Greg drummed his fingers against the wooden seat beneath him. He hummed a few lines from his sisters favourite song. He rummaged around in his supplies pack and grabbed an apple. He looked at it before putting it back; he wasn't hungry. He sighed and closed his eyes. A distraction, that's what he was looking for, and Greg knew it. A distraction from the beautiful letter that was currently burning a hole in the pocket of his cloak.

  
And more specifically, the beautiful signature at the bottom.

  
Greg sighed and folded his hands in his lap. He stared ahead at the path through the trees and breathed deeply. He managed to do this for about thirty more seconds, before he gave in a shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled the letter out. Gently, he unfolded the letter and traced over the broken seal with his fingers, the wax emblem textured beneath his touch. In the dim light, Greg turned the parchment over and scanned the words that he had already memorized, before fixating on the sprawling name at the bottom: Mycroft Holmes.

The script was curly and swirling and beautiful. The ink was the darkest of blacks, and the lines were solid and flawless. But that wasn't what was really catching Greg's eye, and he knew it. Boy, did he ever. No, what had really caught his eye, the moment he had seen it, was the actual name. Mycroft, he thought to himself. How many people are named Mycroft? Even with it being the King's name, Greg didn't think many of the kingdom's people had named their son's the same. Maybe after the prince, sure; William was good, normal. Even though he'd taken to calling himself by his first middle name instead, which Sally had informed him was Sherlock. But Mycroft? Mycroft was unique. And it was because it was so unique, so strange, that it triggered something in his memory, something from a long time ago.

Mycroft Holmes, the king, had once been a young boy. King Siger, Mycroft's father, had been in power when Greg had been born, and all through his childhood as well. And as he thought about it, Greg began to remember. He recalled a time when his father had still been alive, had still been the head of the household. He'd had to go to the city to deliver the season's stock of wool, and his father had taken eight-year-old him along for the journey. He remembered being so excited, and feeling so important. And the feeling of awe, when they'd passed through the city's gates and into the busy market square, so full of people and colours and noise. Greg had been a curious and bold child, and so when his father had stopped to talk with one of the vendors, he had slipped through the crowd to go and see....well, god knows what. And so he'd gotten lost. 

* * *

_"Dad, look! I can see the castle from here!"_

_There was no response. Greg glanced back. He could see what seemed like hundreds of men, but none of them were his father._

_"Dad?"_  

* * *

As the memory of being lost entered his mind, Greg's brain finally connected the dots and the rest of the memory of that day flooded him. He closed his eyes and remembered, everything, every single detail; the noises, the sights, the smells, the people...

And one person in particular... 

* * *

_Greg's voice was small and unheard in all the noise of the market as he turned in circles, trying to spot his father or at least his father's cart. But although there were many carts, and many fathers, he was unable to see anything that was familiar. Greg turned to face the way he had been moving and looked back up at the castle, its towers and walls framed by perfectly blue sky. He stepped forwards through the crowds, his gaze never leaving the grey stone of the awe inspiring building in front of him. As a result of this,_

_Greg ended up walking straight into another person._  

_"Oof!" He said, as he fell to the ground and onto his bum._

_"Sorry! That was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going." The soft voice of the person he'd bumped into came floating down to him and he looked up. Straight into the light blue eyes of a small boy, no older than five. Greg shook his head and smiled, still seated on the ground._

_"Oh, it's alright." He said, pushing himself off the ground and back onto his feet. Greg dusted himself off and grinned before extending his hand. "I'm Greg." The smaller boy smiled and took his hand in his._

_"It's nice to meet you, Greg. I'm Myc." They shook hands._

_Greg glanced around and turned back to the young boy in front of him. He frowned slightly; wasn't Myc a little young to be by himself? "What are you doing here all by yourself?"_ _He asked, gesturing towards the crowd that surrounded them and the market beyond._

_Myc shook his head. "I'm not, my nanny is here too. I'm supposed to meet her by the palace gates at three."_

_Greg raised his eyebrows. "You have a nanny? That's rotten luck. Is she very strict?"_

_"Oh, not very. She always lets me play anything I want, as long as I eat all my vegetables and follow the rules." He shrugged. "What about you?"_

_"I'm lost and looking for my dad. We brought our llama wool in our cart, but now I can't find him." Greg said. "We didn't make a meeting place or nothing either." He sighed and shrugged back._

_The smaller boy frowned. "That's awful. Have you ever been in the city before?" At Greg's headshake, he continued. "Well, don't worry. I've been here loads of times, I know this market like the back of my hand. I'll help you find him."_

_Greg grinned. "Thanks!" He turned to look through the crowd. "So, if I told you that he brings the wool to a man really close to that lady who sells those really nice muffins, would you know what I was talking about?"_

_Myc thought for a moment, before nodding. "You mean Mrs. Turner? The muffin lady_  
_with the white cat?" He asked._

_Greg nodded excitedly. "Yes, that's the one! Her daughter lives in my village, and she comes to visit all the time. She always brings my mum a basket of her muffins." He turned to look towards the direction Myc was now pointing and tried to stand on his tiptoes to see if he could catch a glimpse of anything beyond the people in front of him. Unfortunately, at the young age of eight, he wasn't that tall. He huffed and dropped back down onto his heels. "I can't see anything." He grumbled._

_Myc shook his head and stepped forwards. "It doesn't matter, I'll take you there. Come on!" He smiled and moved through the crowd. Greg walked quickly and followed him, the both of them weaving in and out of tight clusters of chatting people._

 

_[To be continued...]_  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be posting the second part of the memory and the chapter tomorrow, I promise. It's already written, it just needs some editing:) And then I should be posting the next chapter (which will be another Mycroft one, probably) on either Monday or Tuesday next week.
> 
> I was also thinking of writing a Sherlock chapter for this, and then having a few short moments between Jim and Irene, but I'm still undecided on that. Comment if you think its a good idea please, I'd like your input.


	6. Remembering - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Greg's flashback

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS. I know I said this would be updated right after i posted the other one, but for some reason ao3 wouldn't let me post it. I don't know why, all I know is that now it is, so YAY. Also, this one is kinda short, since it's literally just the rest of his memory. But the next one will be longer, as it'll probably be about Mycroft and/or Sherlock. I'm not sure when I'll be putting in the Irene+Jim chapter, but it'll probably be in the next few, so heads up:)

_Myc shook his head and stepped forwards. "It doesn't matter, I'll take you there. Come on!" He smiled and moved through the crowd. Greg walked quickly and followed him, the both of them weaving in and out of tight clusters of chatting people._

_[To be continued...]_

 

_Greg ran after Myc, making sure to never loosen his grip on the other boy's hand. He knew that the moment he let go, he would be lost again in the crowd. As they pushed through the people, Greg was able to see through the gaps to the outer edges of the market. He began searching for glimpses of his father and their cart, but it wasn't until Myc had dragged him to a standstill, that Greg saw his father again._

_Standing there, chatting with Mrs. Turner, was his dad. The old lady was petting her cat and arranging muffins in a basket when Greg caught sight of them. He let out a gasp and ran forwards. "Dad!" He shouted, before he threw himself at his father and wrapped his arms around him. Greg's dad laughed and picked him up to hug him._

_"Ran off there, eh lad?" He smiled down at his son and ruffled his hair._

_"'m sorry," Greg's reply was muffled by the clothing and shoulder his face was pressed into, but they could all hear it just fine._

_"That's alright. The castle and market are certainly a sight for us herders. And I suspect you didn't realize just how easy it is to get lost in this bunch." Greg's dad gestured towards the still bustling crowds. Greg shook his head, and then nodded quickly._

_"Yeah, I would never have found you, ever! But then I found Myc, and he helped me! He's really smart." Greg beamed at his father, wiggling around in his arms until his dad put him back down. Greg stepped over to Myc and gestured towards him, still beaming widely. Myc's face was flushed red, but he was smiling just as widely as Greg. Greg's dad looked down at the pair of them and smiled._

_"And who's this, then?" He said, before glancing to the side as Mrs. Turner let out a little gasp. He looked at her in confusion, but she just just shook her head._

_"My name is Myc, sir." Myc glanced between Mrs. Turner and Greg's dad nervously for a moment, before stepping forwards with his little hand outstretched. "Pleasure to meet you."_

_Greg's father's eyebrows flew up and his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh ho!" He said, reaching down to grasp the hand in his. "A little gentleman! Well, Mr. Myc, it's a pleasure to meet you too. I hear from my son that you helped him find his way here. Thank you." He shook Myc's hand and smiled._

_Greg began jumping up and down wildly, chatting away a mile a minute about the things he'd seen and heard in the center of the market. His father and Mrs. Turner made the appropriate noises and surprised faces while he spoke, sharing knowing smiles when Greg looked away. Myc watched it all for a moment, before joining Greg in his minute by minute retelling of their journey through the crowds to the muffin cart._

_Speaking of muffins..._

_"Mrs. Turner?" Myc asked._

_The old lady turned to look at him, and the cat in her arms jumped down to rub against his ankles. Myc giggled and knelt down to pet the cat. "May I have a muffin, please? And Greg too, please." He turned his best pleading look on her, and she let out a laugh._

_"Of course, dear. You can both have two if you want, there's plenty to go around. And I baked extra blueberry, because I know their your favourite." She smiled down and handed him and Greg each a muffin._

_"Thank you! Thank you so so so so much!" Greg's enthusiastic reply earned a giggle from Mrs. Turner as well as a snort from his father. Myc smiled and said a simple, "Thank you as well, Mrs. Turner." before biting into the fresh muffin. He had barely finished his bite, before there was a commotion in the crowd just behind them. They all turned as one, to see a group of Palace soldiers and what appeared to be a lady of high birth, scanning the crowd._

_Myc quickly swallowed and turned to look at Greg and his father. "I should be going now, but it was a pleasure to meet you, and I hope you have a safe journey back." He turned towards Mrs. Turner and smiled. "Thank you again, and I'll see you tomorrow. Goodbye." He waved and ran back into the crowd before anyone could protest. Greg's dad frowned slightly, glancing once again at Mrs. Turner, before shrugging and turning back to his cart. Mrs. Turner let out a small sigh of relief, and continued setting out her muffins in a basket._

_Greg watched the spot where Myc had disappeared, and as a result, saw the boy step up to the soldiers and the high born lady. Greg's face scrunched in confusion when the lady threw her arms around his shoulders, but he shrugged as well. Maybe that was the nanny Myc had been telling him about. Although why she had been with soldiers from the Palace, Greg didn't know... Oh well._

_"Oi, Greg. Ready to go?" His dad's voice permeated his thoughts, and he was about to turn away to answer, when he heard the lady who was with Myc say, "Now Master Mycroft, you know you can't just go running off like that! Her majesty would be torn apart if she lost you..."_

_That was strange, Greg thought. Why is she calling him Mycroft, when his name is Myc? And why would the queen be upset if he was lost?_

_"Greg?"_

_Greg shook himself and turned to face his father. "Yeah, let's go home." He smiled up at his father._

 

**o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o**

 

Greg sat completely still, the letter clutched in his hand. His face was frozen in realization, and his eyes were wide in shock. Myc. Mycroft.

_Mycroft Holmes._

The King. 

Greg jolted out of his shock. The bloody _King._ The bloody King that Greg was now being _summoned_ by, the same kid who helped him out all those years ago. 

_Oh my god_ , Greg thought in horror. _I knocked the bloody Crown Prince into the dirt!_ And now he's the King! What if he remember's me? What if that's why he summoned me, so he can make sure it's me, before...

Greg gulped. Before what? Punishment. Was he going to be thrown into prison? The Royal dungeons? Was he to be hanged?

" _Oh god,_ " Greg moaned, holding his head in his hands. Should he go back? Should he continue? What would his mum say, if he just showed back up? _What would she say if he never came back?_

"No. No, it might not even be about all that. It was years ago, there's no way he could remember me. Not even the slightest chance. It's fine, it'll all be fine..." Greg shook himself and sat up straight. He would continue on, participate in whatever important meeting the King had planned, and then he would buy some trinkets for his mum and sister, and leave. 

Yes, that's what he would do. That's all that would happen. Greg swallowed thickly and glanced back down at the letter in his hands. _God, I hope that's all that happens..._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you it would be short! Sorry, but I really do plan on posting the next chapter fairly soon. I really just wanted to get the flashback part over with, since I was kinda stuck on how to end it. I hope I did a decent job and it doesn't sound too forced.

**Author's Note:**

> Comment any ideas/suggestions/corrections. This fic can only improve, but it won't until someone steps in to either a)beta it, or b)comments helpful things. So, please do!


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